On the Brink
by higginszoo
Summary: The morning after the Battle. RHr Oneshot DH SPOILERS By popular demand, I'm expanding this to multi-chapter.
1. Chapter 1

Hermione's footsteps echoed on the stones as she climbed what was left of the Astronomy Tower. As she neared the top of the rubble, she saw him huddled, perched on the edge of a precipice overlooking the ruins of Hogwarts Castle. From the moment Hermione had looked up from her work of comforting the families of the fallen, she knew where he had gone.

"Ron?" she hesitated. "Ron." She reached out and touched his shoulder.

Hermione waited for a moment.

He didn't move, didn't acknowledge her presence.

"Ok, well, your mum was worried about you. I said I'd come find you. I'll just go let her know where you are." She turned and started to pick her way down the ruined stairway.

"Hermione, wait," his voice was no more than a whisper.

She turned and climbed back to him. "It's ok if you want to be alone."

"I … stay with me, Hermione," his eyes pleaded with her to understand what he couldn't voice.

"Of course," her quiet tone matched his. She reached to grasp the hand he offered, gasping for a moment as she glanced at the drop in front of her it must be thirty metres down to the remains of the tower now lying on the ground below.

She felt Ron's arms wrap firmly around her. "Shh, I won't let you fall," he pulled her to him, and she relaxed imperceptibly. "I've got you, Hermione." She settled into his embrace.

Hermione settled next to Ron on the rim of the ruin, and looked out over the scene below. The chaos of the night's battle and the dawn that had broken as it ended had given way to a deceptive, eerie silence in the morning. A light, early summer breeze whispered over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest. The colour of the sky had brightened to a brilliant blue. Ron was once again staring off into the distance across the lake.

So much had happened during the past day, the past months. There hadn't been any time to stop and process any of it. Hermione looked down at the Whomping Willow, its branches covered in new leaves that were rustling in the wind. She allowed the movement to hypnotize her as she leaned back against Ron.

He shifted to bring her closer, resting her head against his chest, breathing in the floral scent of her hair that somehow lingered through the soot and sweat. Keeping one hand firmly around her waist, he used the other to reach down and clasp her hand. She looked down at their twined hands, both arms showing signs of healing burns from their escape from Gringotts. Could that possibly have been less than a day ago? Their robes were dirty, scorched, and torn. The price had been high, but they had both survived. They had succeeded in their quest to help Harry.

Ron looked down on the scarred landscape in front of them. "What do we do now?" he was lost. Their whole lives this past year, since they met Harry on the train seven years ago, really, had been focused on one goal. He really hadn't allowed himself the luxury of looking past it. None of them had.

Hermione sighed. "We clean up, pick up the pieces, and move on," she declared decisively.

Ron chuckled. She turned to look at him, confused. "What?"

He shook his head. How could he explain how comforting it was to hear Hermione being so … Hermione in the face of such destruction? "I love you, you know that?" he whispered into her ear, holding her tightly to him.

She turned in his arms, looking into the shining blue that matched the sky with wonder. He leaned down, closing the distance between them, joining their lips and their hearts as they sat on the brink of the future.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione leaned back on the stone wall and sighed. She rubbed her tear stained face and looked down at her hands, realizing that she had probably just rubbed grime all over her face. She was too weary to care, really. A little more grime in light of the dirt and scars of the last couple of days would not matter.

The Weasleys had done everything not to make her feel like an outsider, yet she did. When a family meeting was called to discuss arrangements, she had prodded Ron into going, but then slipped from his grasp in spite of his mother's protests, needing to get some air, to get away from the grief that enveloped the family and the entire Great Hall. She felt like a bit of a coward, not staying and supporting Ron, but with Harry being dragged this direction and that, the duty of consoling Ginny was falling mainly to him. That was a good thing, she reflected. She knew Ron always coped better when he had a sense of purpose. Comforting his sister would give him a focus for his own grief.

She heard footfalls on the stone steps behind her. Well-worn reflex from the past months had her instantly on alert, grasping the wand she'd been using for the past several weeks since their escape from Malfoy Manner. A careful listen, however, caused her to relax at the familiar pattern to the steps. She turned to greet her closest friend. "Harry."

He was holding a bundle of blue blankets, topped with turquoise fluff. "So this is Teddy?" She asked.

Harry nodded. "Mrs. Tonks is in making arrangements with Kingsley and Professor McGonagall. I offered to help, but …"

"It's something she needs to do on her own," Hermione filled in, understanding.

Harry nodded and sat down on the bottom step, near where Hermione had been standing. She joined him. They sat in silence for a while, each looking over the lake as the sun drifted lower, each lost in his own thoughts.

"So," Hermione mused, "it's really over."

Harry nodded absently. He looked down at the sleeping child nestled in his arms.

"They had to be here, Harry," Hermione soothed him, "they had to do what they did. It was who they were. They knew the risks. And they knew, or at least they hoped, that if they couldn't make it through the battle, that you would make it through, that you would be here for Teddy. They knew that if that happened, he would never go through what you did."

Harry blinked away a few tears. It just wasn't fair. "How … how is Ginny?" he asked. He, of course had seen her during the Battle, and after. Oh that glorious feeling when she'd hugged him at the end was all too short-lived. He knew that they had a lot to work through, but the way she had thrown herself at him gave him reason to hope.

Hermione looked at him for a moment. "She … she's having a difficult time with Fred's loss, but I think that she is going to be all right. You know, eventually. Ron … Ron's been there for her, they're helping each other through it."

Harry looked up at her. "And that has got to be hard on you with the two of you just …"

"It is, but it's who they are, Harry. They are Weasleys, their family comes first, it really is part of their charm. And Ron and Ginny … Ron and Ginny are so close, have been since they were babies. I suppose that it's only natural when something as catastrophic and life-changing like this happens, that they would turn to each other and we would end up on the outside. It's not that they don't care … that they don't care about us, it's just that they need each other, too, and always will."

Harry reached down to grab his wand as they heard footsteps approaching the top of the stairs. From their seat on the bottom step, they couldn't see who was coming until they reached the top of the flight. The familiar freckled faces caused both Harry and Hermione to outwardly relax, though each felt a strange leap in their heartbeat. The pair of redheads worked their way across some rubble on the staircase, hand in hand, much in the way Hermione thought they probably would have when they were children. Ginny sat next to Harry, peeking at the sleeping baby in his arms. Ron sat behind Hermione, reaching his arms around her torso and pulling her back into his warmth. She melted into him, losing any self-consciousness she may have had earlier in the crowds and with his family. It was now just them and their two closest friends, and she felt much more comfortable showing and accepting affection as she entwined her fingers with Ron's. Their friends smiled over at them, and returned their attention to Tonks' and Remus' child in Harry's arms.

"How did you find us," Hermione looked up at Ron.

He shrugged. "You said you needed air. I kind of thought you would be down at the lake, but we didn't get that far."

She chuckled ruefully. "I was headed out there, but being away from the castle alone, I just felt so … exposed. Old habits die hard."

He nodded and pulled her more tightly to him. She grasped his arm and pulled it still tighter around herself.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable in there." Ron let go and pulled a curl back and tucked it behind Hermione's ear.

"It wasn't that. It wasn't you. It … it was just the whole situation. Your family needed you right there, right then. Ginny needed you and you were there for her, and that's how it should be. And you needed to be there for them. It is part of who you are. I am sorry I didn't stay with you and support you, but I just … I just needed to get away from all of it."

He nodded, resting his chin on her head. He smoothed his free hand down the charred sleeve of her robe. He stopped at the still healing burns sticking out from the holey sleeve. "Are you all right?"

She nodded. "I will be. You?" Her hand caressed the matching burns on his own forearm, obscuring the usual freckles with their pinkness.

"I will be fine." He toyed with the frayed cuff of her sleeve.

She followed his hand with her gaze. "These robes really are awful. I think I'm going to have to just burn them … well, what there is left of them."

They both chuckled.

"I would like to go get cleaned up," Ron commented, "but I don't think we have anything left to wear."

"I might have a jumper or two and a pair of denims left in my bag, but even the ones that fit you last summer are not going to work now," Hermione observed. "I think that Fleur pressed our dress robes," she offered, drawing her bag out of her sock and starting to open it. "They'd be a little short as well."

"It's ok, Luv," he stopped her before she could start rummaging in the purse's depths, and took the bag, placing it on the step behind him. She turned to reach for it, and he stopped her, pulling her into an embrace.

"Shh, Hermione, it's okay. I wasn't planning on going anywhere just now, besides, I think that giving Mum our clothing situation to fuss over will be a welcome distraction for her."

"Even if it sends her into an apoplexy over where we have been and what we've been doing all these months?" she enquired.

Ron shrugged. "It's bound to happen sooner or later, might as well get it over with."

She smiled up at him, their eyes locked, and slowly his head came down to catch her lips in a languorous kiss.

"Mmm," she said breaking it off, "fine, we'll let your mum worry about clothes."

"Or I could just do without," Ron teased, waggling his eyebrows at his scandalized girlfriend.

"Intriguing as that is," Hermione gave him a slow, appraising look, arching a brow. "I think we'd be better off waiting on that just yet."

Ron took her face in his hands. "Fine by me," he said, kissing her forehead and pulling her close. "We have all the time in the world now, don't we?"


	3. Chapter 3

"Zere, zat looks much better already. I left as much as I could, but ze burns…"

"Oh, she looks adorable," Ginny gushed from the bed of the master bedroom of Shell Cottage, where the girls had retired to clean up after their return from Hogwarts. With layers of grime scrubbed away and clean clothes, it was much easier to feel human, but the battles at Gringotts and Hogwarts had left sections of Hermione's hair beyond repair. Fortunately, an effect of having gone to a girls' school like Beauxbatons was that Fleur was quite experienced in the art of hair design.

"I don't know…" Hemione looked hesitantly in the mirror.

"I know zat eet's a big change."

"I suppose that it had to be done," Hermione conceded "I've just never worn it this short before."

"It really does look cute, Hermione," Ginny encouraged. "Come on, let's go show Mum." She opened the door, which was off of the kitchen of the small house. Mrs. Weasley and Harry looked up from the cups of tea they'd been drinking at the table. Harry looked quite different than Hermione had been accustomed – his hair was now neatly (for him) trimmed – a far cry from the longish style that he'd adopted after Hermione's trims had seemed to do more harm than good – and the scraggly beard that had grown while they were on the run that he had never bothered to deal with in their previous sojourn at Shell Cottage was gone. To his credit, he did try to hide his surprise at Hermione's transformation, but much like on the night of the Yule Ball, his reaction made her self-conscious.

"Stop it, Harry." Ginny poked him.

"You look really nice, Hermione, really." Harry declared. Hermione shot him a dubious look. "No, really, it's just different."

"I suppose, you look different that I'd gotten used to as well," Hermione conceded. "More like yourself."

"Well, the others should be back soon, and we'll know better where we stand as far as returning home," Mrs. Weasley declared. "Not that we don't appreciate your hospitality, dear," she addressed her daughter-in-law.

"I understand. Eet will be good to be home and get back to normal."

"Whatever that is." Mrs. Weasley poured mugs of tea for the girls, needing to keep busy.

The sound of pops in the garden interrupted the girls from finding seats around the small table. Bill and Arthur led the way, followed by Percy and Ron. Ron stopped short just inside the door and stared at Hermione. She hesitated for a moment before pushing past Percy out the door. Ginny started to follow, muttering about her brother being an oaf, but he shook his head and pushed her back. "I'll go," he said.

The crowd left behind held various expressions of confusion, worry, and amusement, before Mrs. Weasley demanded a report on the condition of The Burrow.

Outside, Ron caught up with Hermione at the sea wall that separated the garden from the beach. "Hermione."

She kept her shoulders hunched, facing the wall.

"Hermione," he repeated, reaching out and turning her by the shoulder, "look at me."

"I know that I look awful, Fleur had to cut so much off because of the burns."

Ron shook his head, "That's not why I was speechless back there. It's because you're so… so beautiful."

"Really?" She looked up at him hopefully.

"Really," he assured her, reaching out and taking a curly lock in his fingers. "Not that I didn't think you were pretty while we were on the run, but … well, you clean up well." He grinned down at her and stole a quick kiss on her cheek.

She reached up and rubbed his cheek. His hair had been cut, but he'd left the beard that he'd grown over the year, though now it was neatly trimmed. "I can shave it if you like it better that way," he offered.

Hermione shook her head. "No. I think it suits you."

He leaned over so that their foreheads touched. "You'll always be the most beautiful girl in the world to me."

She reached up and met his lips in a kiss.


End file.
